


A Thousand Windows

by Weelderig_Waardeloos



Series: Norwegian Nights [33]
Category: Eurovision Song Contest RPF
Genre: 1968, ESC, Eurovision, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-03-26
Updated: 2009-03-26
Packaged: 2017-12-06 13:42:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/736320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Weelderig_Waardeloos/pseuds/Weelderig_Waardeloos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eurovision 1968 Fanfiction</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Thousand Windows

A Thousand Windows

And so that was 2010. A year of a great many friendships and adventures. And yet, now is the perfect time for a flashback, as what happened in this competition in the past is not so different from what happened in 2010.  
The year was 1968. Czechoslovakia was a country that typically kept itself to itself, it had its own secret projects that were hidden from their own citizens and no one from any other country knew what happened inside its secret military bases. Until today. They had invited the Austrian Udo Jurgens to come and have a look at one of their most advanced army bases. Czechoslovakia was worried that Yugoslavia would try to attack them, as Yugoslavia was showing ever increasing aggression towards the Czechs and the Slovaks. It was well known that Britain and America supported Yugoslavia, and they held little regard for Czechoslovakia. They wanted a country to be on their side. They wanted Austria to be that country.  
"It's great that you're showing me around this place," Udo said.  
"Ah, it is no problem. You already know why we are doing this. You know we want your country on our side if we ever get attacked by Yugoslavia," the Czech government official smiled.  
"You have our word," Udo smiled, "You seem like a pleasant bunch. We would be honoured to have your country as allies of Austria."  
"Ah, thank you. It is an honour to have you here Mr. Jurgens."  
Udo looked around at the place. It was awfully advanced for 1968, with buzzing sounds, flashing lights, and other high-tech equipment littering the place. The blue circle, the symbol for 'Gott Industries' was on every single piece of equipment. Only Czechoslovakia could make such advanced machinery. The government of Czechoslovakia had had advanced technology for a long time, but its use was restricted to government research, and no one outside knew that they had this.  
"So Udo... you were on... the Eurovision... we have longed to have Czechoslovakia in it.. to show ourselves as a true nation..." the official was muttering to himself.  
"Well why don't you guys enter this year?" Udo said.  
"It's too risky... the Yugoslavians are there too. We can't... we can't take the risk of any... international disputes... sorry."  
"No, no no, I completely understand, actually, we may also have to withdraw this year," Udo looked down to the floor, "It looks like no one wants to represent Austria this year. Such sad news."  
"Now that is a shame, you guys have had some great entries."  
"Thank you."  
Udo then looked across into one of the rooms, the entire room was blue, with blue wallpaper and a blue carpet.  
"Uh... what's going on in there?" Udo asked.  
"Oh, nothing, it's nothing. Top secret, you know."  
"Well, allies don't keep secrets from each other."  
"I... guess you’re right, Mr. Jurgens, well, I guess we can show you our new project. We're disposing of it later today anyway..."  
"Disposing?" a voice came from the room, "What? What... what for?!?!?!"  
"We're getting rid of you because there's no way Czechoslovakia will ever enter the Eurovision. Ever!" the official shouted at the room.  
"What's going on?" Udo said, walking into the room, "Who's in here?"  
"I am," a voice replied, "And what's it to you?"  
"Ignore him Udo," the official replied, "That's just our robot. It was built to enter the Eurovision, you know, as no self respecting Czechoslovak musician would dare enter when tensions with Yugoslavia are so rife. We're getting rid of it later."  
"Stop calling me 'it'!" the robot yelled, "My name is Karel!"  
Udo looked down at the robot, it was wearing handcuffs and was strapped to a seat.  
"This is um... sort of mean, don't you think?" Udo said.  
"It's a robot Udo, for fuck sake, it doesn't have emotions," the official said.  
"Don't be like that," Udo said, "In Austria we would never behave like that."  
"Look, if you love that pile of metal so much, why don't you have it?"  
"Fine, I'll have it," Udo said.  
"You can enter that junk into the Eurovision, if you want."  
"Oh, we weren't going to be in it this year," Udo said, "We couldn't find anyone who wanted to be in it for us."  
"Well, it's your robot now, you can make it enter Eurovision for you."  
And so the official took the handcuffs off the robot and undid the strap that was holding him to the seat.  
"Euro...vision..." Karel said.  
"Karel," Udo said, "You are our robot now!"  
\----  
Meanwhile in Britain, Terry Wogan and Cliff Richard were standing on the streets of London.  
There were a few horses and carriages driving around on the roads, as Britain had refused all shipments of cars from their superiors, America. If America represented the present, then Britain stood firmly in the past. The prime minister of Britain, Harold Wilson, wanted Britain to keep Victorian age values, and the people of Britain were scared of the change that new technology may bring.  
Terry and Cliff walked into the nearby Harrods store.  
"Are you sure about this?" Cliff said, "I mean, the Beatles are so popular... they probably won't want to do the Eurovision."  
"I hope you're not serious, the Eurovision is so much more popular than them I can't believe it!" Terry laughed, "Of course they'll want to do it!"  
"I don't think so..."  
"Cliff, your lack of faith disturbs me. Of course they'll want to do it, come on, who wouldn't? It's the Beatles for Eurovision 1968!"  
The Beatles were sitting on couches in the corner. Buddy Holly was sitting with them.  
"Hey, look you guys, Terry Wogan's come back to bug us about being in the Euroshite," Ringo said.  
"For the last time, it's EuroVISION!!!" Terry yelled.  
"Yeah whatever," Paul said, "You know what we said last time, we're not doing it."  
"Yeah," George said, looking up from his guitar, "And Eurovision's a load of shite anyway."  
"I thought you four would have grown up and changed your minds! And who cares about what you guys think about the Eurovision?!" Terry yelled, "I certainly don't! You think you're famous now, but guess what! In the future, no one will give a crap about you! Your popularity will fade away and no one will even remember you guys! Abbey Road was the biggest load of crap I've ever heard! Any Eurovision song is miles better than your 'Yellow Submarine' garbage!"  
"Hey don't diss the Beatles, you limey scumbag," Buddy said.  
"We're British too, Buddy," John said.  
"Oh, yeah, sorry John," Buddy smiled.  
"Why don't you get Ronnie Hilton to do it?" Ringo asked, "He loves Eurovision, he tries like, every year."  
"He's not trying this year," Terry said, "Otherwise we would have. He's on holiday in the Netherlands doing god-knows-what."  
"Yeah, well we're also busy," John said.  
"Busy?" Terry yelled, "Doing what exactly?"  
"Not being on the Eurovision," John smiled.  
"GOD DAMN IT," Terry yelled, "Well you people will regret the day you lost your chance to appear on the biggest musical platform in Europe! You will forever look back and regret your horrid decision!"  
"Are you still talking?" John laughed, "Sorry, must have dozed off there. Bye Terry."  
"You scouse scumbags!" Terry yelled, turning to leave, "Come on Cliff, we'll find a better act than these fools!"  
And so the two left the store.  
"Damn it!" Terry yelled, "Those damn Beatles! They think they're better than us! They think they're better than Eurovision! I can’t believe this! First we were rejected by the Rolling Stones... now the Beatles... arrgh! Don't tell me Britain will have to withdraw!"  
"No, no, Britain can't withdraw, you must be joking!"  
"Joking? Does it look like I'm joking?"  
"Hey..." Cliff said, "Why... why don't I do it?"  
"What? You? In the Eurovision? For us?"  
"Yeah..."  
"Actually," Terry smiled, "That idea is crazy enough to work... it's perfect! Cliff Richard, you are our new Eurovision entry!"  
"Really?" Cliff smiled, "Yeaaah! This is awesome!"  
\----  
Udo Jurgens and Karel Gott were now in London, walking to the Second Fesitval of Britain.  
"So... this contest... who else is in this 'Eurovision'?" Karel asked.  
"Well, all the countries of Europe," Udo said.  
"I've... I've been hearing a lot about this Russia country, are they in this Eurovision?"  
"Hahaha," Udo laughed, "Don't be ridiculous Karel, Russia aren't even in Europe, and they will never be in Eurovision!"  
"Oh, I see. Well, maybe they will one day."  
"Eh, I doubt it," Udo said.  
"So where is this festival we are going to?" Karel asked.  
"Up ahead," Udo said, "Apparently this would be good for us to go there, to check out what Britain is like before your Eurovision entry... but... hmm... this city is... so polluted and strange."  
"Everything is so.... monochrome..." Karel said, looking around at the boring grey city.  
"Yeah, I thought Britain would be more exiting than this to be honest," Udo said, "But I've never been here before, thankfully."  
Smoke rose up from the ground as a horse and carriage darted past.  
"Holy hell," Karel coughed, "What is with this place?"  
"Damn," Udo said, "That should be London's tagline. 'We're so damn polluted we can make a robot cough.' But it's because they reject electricity, you know. They keep using coal fires while in the developed world we have central heating."  
"I liked the central heating back in Austria," Karel said, "It's too cold here. Britain sucks."  
"I know, right? Britain's terrible!" Udo said, looking up at a huge banner hanging on a building in front of him.  
It read '1968 - The Year of the Brit', and a huge sign up above that read 'Second Festival Of Britain'.  
"Second... there was a first?" Udo asked.  
"The first Festival of Britain was in 1951, old chaps! Toodle pip!" a British man wearing a top hat and a rain coat said as he ran past them.  
"Well, we better enter," Udo smiled, opening the golden gate in front of him and the two of them walked into the Second Festival of Britain.  
There were stalls with British flags covering them, and nearly everyone was holding a British flag.  
"What the hell is with all the flags around here?" Karel asked, "It's like they're scared we'll forget which country we're in or something."  
"They're very patriotic, the Brits," Udo said, "You see, it's been like that in Britain since the Second World War."  
They looked around on the stalls and saw that they had displays on the history of Britain.  
"Oooh, Britain has a long history," Karel said, impressed by the huge amount of books on British history that was on the stall.  
"We'll tell you about our history, old bean," said a Brit, "Our history is about blowing up those shitheads in Germany and Austria! Ahahahahahaha!!!"  
"Erm... excuse me, I'm Austrian," Udo said.  
"Go fuck yourself then," the Brit said.  
"Speak for yourself mate," Udo said angrily, before storming off. Karel followed him.  
"Why... why is everyone here like this?" Karel said.  
"It's the British, they've always been like this," Udo said, “Always.”  
They looked over in the corner and saw some Brits who were burning German flags.  
"We hate Germany!" they were chanting.  
"Hey!" Karel yelled, walking over to them, "Stop that!"  
"Karel stop!" Udo shouted, running after him, "Karel come back!"  
"Oh, look here, old chaps," some Brit said, "The guy on that stand told me that the guy over there is Austrian!"  
"Oh crap," Karel said, running back to Udo, "Let's get out of here!"  
"We hate Austrians!" said another Brit and they all started to run at Udo and Karel.  
"Yeah, let's go," Udo said, and the two of them ran off, away from the stalls. The exit from the Festival of Britain was in sight, but then, a Brit jumped out at them!  
"And where do you think you're going?" he said, tilting his top hat and getting a gun out from his pocket with his other hand.  
"N..n..nowhere," Karel whispered.  
"Nowhere?!" the Brit laughed, aiming his gun at them, "Yeah, you're correct, nowhere is exactly where we'll be going, you foreign losers! Hahahaha!"  
"Hey, leave them alone!" a voice yelled from the distance.  
They all turned to see Cliff Richard standing behind them.  
"Ah... ah..." the Brit said, obviously starstruck that someone so famous was in front of him, "Terribly sorry, won't happen again sir! Toodle pip!"  
And with that the Brit ran off.  
"Did you see that?!" Karel said, "He scared that guy off!"  
Cliff walked over to them.  
"I'm Cliff," he said, "Cliff Richard. You're the Eurovision guys, right? I heard you'd be here. It's a pleasure to meet you."  
"Ah, you too," Karel said, "But how did you know we were going to be here?"  
"Word gets around," Cliff smiled.  
"Anywho, thanks for saving us back there," Karel said, "I just don't know what got in to everyone at that festival."  
Cliff then began to walk up a small hill.  
"Oh, don't fool yourself," Cliff said, as Udo and Karel began following him up the hill, "Everyone here's always been like that. Well... most people, anyway. It's a strange country... Britain. I mean, even radios are banned here as they use electricity. I have one though, but shhhh, don't tell anyone."  
"We won't," Udo said.  
Udo, Cliff and Karel now stood on the top of the hill, overlooking the Second Festival of Britain as the sun set in the distance.  
"It's beautiful from a distance," Karel said.  
"Yeah, but then you go up to it," Cliff said, "All pollution and people burning flags. No wonder most countries don't like Britain. It's a strange country, as a said before, and the people aren’t even worth mentioning...”  
“So how is the Eurovision going to be here?” Karel asked, “If everyone acts like that here?”  
“They’ll up the security for the entrants,” Cliff said, “Besides, the British will be on their best behaviour during the Eurovision. They want to show the other countries that they can act civilised too.”  
\----  
Two months later in London, the Eurovision was just beginning. Despite requests to have the contest at a later date, the British commitee ruled that it should be held in April. And of course, being in Britain, it was raining, as usual.  
The contestants for the 1968 Eurovision were waiting outside the Royal Albert Hall. They could hear the faint chime of Big Ben in the distance.  
"God damn it, let us in already!" Claude Lombard yelled, "It's raining out here!"  
The door opened, and there, standing in the doorway, was Terry Wogan.  
"I'm dreadfully sorry," Terry apologised, "We weren't supposed to keep you all waiting like this. Please, come inside."  
And so the Eurovision entrants went inside the stadium.  
A woman walked over to them.  
"Hi hi!" she said, "My name is Katie, Katie Boyle. I'm the presenter of the Eurovision this year along with Terry Wogan! Please, introduce yourselves to the other entrants, and make yourself at home! The contest will start in two hours, we hope you will enjoy it!"  
Katie then left.  
Carlos Mendos looked up.  
"Hola amigos!" Carlos said, "Welcome to Eurovision! This sure will be good, won't it?"  
"It sure will," a voice said from the corner, "Hello everyone, I am Claes-Goran Hederstrom. I am from Sweden. Uh... who are you guys?"  
"I am Karel Gott," Karel said, "And this is my mentor and the writer of my song, Udo Jurgens!"  
"Greetings Karel and Udo," said Claes-Goran, "It is a pleasure to meet you."  
"It is a pleasure to meet you too Claes," Udo said.  
"Yes well, the winner of our national final was not me," said Odd Borre, the Norwegian entrant, who was holding a Norwegian flag, "But the winner, Kari, was accused of copying off 'Summer Holidays' by Cliff Richard and the Shadows, so they sent the second place instead, which was me!"  
"What, someone copied what?" Cliff asked.  
"Oh my god Cliff Richard!" Odd yelled, and then he went over to Cliff.  
"Uh, nice to see you too, Norwegian guy," Cliff smiled.  
Karel then looked over and saw the two Yugoslavians, Luciano and Hamo sitting on a couch holding Yugoslavian flags and talking to each other.  
"Uh no," Karel whispered to Udo, looking at the Yugoslavians, "The Yugoslavians... those are the ones the Czech Republic are worried about..."  
"Oh, oh no, don't worry about them," Udo smiled, "Silly Czech, the Eurovision is no place for politics... those two will be fine, they're not a problem."  
"Then... if they are not a problem, why worry about them?"  
"Well... you see... everyone is always worrying about something," Udo said, "You see Karel, the governments of the world are always trying to make people worry about things."  
"But what's the good in that?"  
"Well... uh..."  
Suddenly, they were interrupted by a horse and carriage which had pulled up outside the stadium, and Tommy Korberg got off.  
Tommy ran up to the stadium and started knocking on the door, and Udo was relieved that he didn't have to answer Karel's arkward questions about Yugoslavia and the government.  
"Hey guys! Guys!" Tommy said, knocking on the door of the stadium, "Let me in! It's raining again!"  
"It's always raining in Britain," Claude said.  
Claes went and opened the door and Tommy ran inside.  
"Sorry I'm late for Eurovision!" Tommy said.  
"You're early you idiot!" Claes said, "You're our entrant next year!"  
"Wait... how come Sweden knows their entrant a year in advance?" Udo asked.  
"Lots of us do," Wencke Myhre said, "See, I am Germany's entrant this year, and next year they will have Siw Malmkvist."  
"That's weird how you know them advance," Karel said, "I didn't know I was going to Eurovision until three weeks before..."  
"Hey," Cliff said, "Same here."  
"But... Siw... she's Swedish," Udo said, "Not German."  
"And, so what? I'm Norwegian!" Wencke yelled, "And you have a Czech guy representing Austria!"  
Pat McGeegan walked into the room. He was wearing green clothes and a hat with the Irish flag on it.  
"Top o' the morning to ya laddies!" Pat said in a strong Irish accent, "May the lilt of lush laughter lighten every road you walk down!"  
"Dude," Cliff said, "Could you get more stereotypically Irish?"  
"You're just jealous that you don't have the luck o' the Irish!" Pat laughed, "You haven't kissed the Blarney Stone, Brit, that's your problem!"  
"Oh yeah," Karel said, rolling his eyes, "That's the problem."  
\---  
And so the clock ticked on.  
Karel Gott and Cliff Richard were now both sitting on a couch in the corner of the room.  
"It's great to see you again," Karel smiled.  
"Yes," Cliff said, "This is much better than that dusty festival."  
Suddenly, a man walked out to them.  
"Wha- who are you?!" Karel asked.  
"You're not a member of the Eurovision!" Cliff yelled, "Who are you?! Get out of here!"  
"What? Who am I? I am Joan Manuel Sarrat!" he said, "Come on, you guys must know me!"  
"Oh yeah," Karel said, "I think Udo mentioned you. You're that guy who wanted to sing in Catalan or something."  
"Wait..." Cliff said, "Didn't you get kicked out of the Eurovision because of that?!"  
"Well actually," Joan said, looking down at the floor, "That was only half the reason. I am here to tell you all about the other half..."  
Isabella Aubret came running over to them.  
"You lot having a secret conversation are you?" she asked, "What's with all the quiet whispering going on over here? Come on, you can tell us."  
"Isabella, we're sort of, having a private conversation over here," Karel said, "So yeah, Spanish guy, you were saying?"  
"I'm not Spanish I'm Catalonian!!!" Joan yelled, "Catalonian! From Catalonia!"  
"Alright, calm down," Karel said, "Isabella, this isn't really a good time, as you can see."  
"Geez, ok," Isabella said, "I'll let you guys have your weird rants in peace."  
And with that, Isabella walked off.  
"It's Franco..." Joan whispered, "It's a national secret... I shouldn't be saying this, I know I shouldn't be saying this, but Franco is going to fix the Eurovi-"  
"Hey you, get out of here!" a voice yelled from the distance.  
It was Gianni Mascolo, the Italian entrant.  
"What are you doing here?!" Gianni shouted.  
"I... uh..." Joan tried to explain.  
"You're not in Eurovision, so leave this place!" Gianni yelled.  
Joan then ran off down the corridor.  
Carlos Mendos looked up from the couch.  
"Hey amigo," Carlos said, "Calm down, don't shout. It's Eurovision here, a quiet time."  
"My apologies, but there was someone here who shouldn't have been," Gianni said.  
Line and Willy from Monaco looked up, as did Chris and Sophie from Luxembourg.  
"Should we be worried?" Line asked.  
"I guess not," Gianni said, "I mean, if he posed a danger he would have done something already, I guess. Probably just a deranged fan. Some people love Eurovision too much."  
"You can never love Eurovision too much," said Claude Lombard.  
"Indeed," said Ronnie Tober, "Eurovision is the best."  
"Even if it was just a deranged fan," said Kristina Hautala, the Finnish entrant, "We should be careful... us Eurovision entrants should stick together!"  
Just then, Terry Wogan walked into the room.  
"There was someone in here who shouldn't have been," Gianni said.  
"Oh, yes, we saw someone just run out of the stadium," Terry said, "I thought it was odd, him just running out into the rain like that."  
"Gianni said it was probably an overzealous Eurovision fan," Kristina Hautala said.  
"Even so," Gianni said, "Aren't you responsible for us while we're here at Eurovision, Terry Wogan? What if it hadn't just been some mad fan? You're responsible for our safety, you know!"  
"Ah, calm down," Terry smiled, "We wouldn't let anything happen to you guys, don't worry about it."  
"See," Carlos said, "That's my motto! Don't worry about things."  
\----  
It was later on now, the other entrants were preparing for Eurovision in the green room and talking about the Catalonian incident while Cliff Richard was walking down the corridor. He stopped when he saw that one of the rooms was open, and on it hung a sign labelled 'voting room'.  
Cliff looked inside the room, and saw General Franco looming over the votes, editing them, changing them. He was shocked that Franco would stoop so low as to cheat at Eurovision.  
But Franco had caught a glance of Cliff in the mirror, and Franco spun around, withdrew a gun from his pocket and aimed it at him.  
"I see you there, Brit," Franco snarled, "What, you think I'm blind or something?"  
"N...no..." Cliff said, "No... no, I don't... of course not..."  
"Good, now follow me and go where I tell you or I'll shoot the shit out of you," Franco said, and Franco lead Cliff to a door, which Franco pushed open.  
"Now get into this room," Franco said, and Cliff walked into the room. There was nothing in the room except for a large closet.  
"W..wait, Franco... wait... why are you doing this?"  
"We had just begun a new chapter in Spain's history, and we have no one's respect. Fixing the Eurovision so that we win will ensure our respect. Massiel must win, you see," Franco smiled, "And then we will earn Europe's respect."  
"It's much more than that," Cliff said, "Eurovision isn't about-"  
"Silence Brit!" Franco yelled, opening the closet that was in the room.  
Cliff just looked on.  
"Get in before I shoot you, Brit," Franco said, and Cliff Richard climbed into the closet.  
"This can only be opened from the outside, have fun at Eurovision- oh wait, you won't show up, ha ha ha! And I'll be long gone by the time you get out of there, and no one is going to believe your sad little story. It'll just look like a sore loser complaining about the rightful winners," Franco smiled, putting the gun back inside his pocket and walking off down the corridor.  
\---  
The Eurovision had already started, and Katie walked back onto the stage to announce the next act.  
"And next up," she said, "Is France, represented by Isabella Aubret!"  
"Oooh!" Isabella said, "Looks like I'm next! Wish me luck you guys!"  
"Good luck!" Karel smiled.  
Terry Wogan looked around. All the Eurovision entrants were in this room except for Cliff.  
"Where the hell has Cliff gotten too?" Terry said, "Damn it. We're on after the Italian guy too... we can't have the United Kingdom not represented while we're the hosts. Hey, has anyone here seen him?"  
"Well, I certainly haven't," Claude said, "I do not waste my time tracking Brits."  
"I, also do not waste my time tracking Brits," Sergio Endrigo said, and he and Claude just laughed.  
"Ok... anyone else got anything to add?" Terry asked.  
"No, I haven't seen him," Udo said, "Karel, you've already done your song. Go and look for him."  
"What?" Karel said, "Why do I have to go-"  
"Just do it," Udo snapped, and Karel reluctantly went off, out of the backstage room and into a dark and empty corridor.  
"Hello?" he said, his voice echoing around the room, "Hello? Is Cliff Richard here?"  
There was no reply. Meanwhile, on the Eurovision stage, Katie was standing on the stage, speaking into a microphone.  
"And that was France, with Isabella Aubret and 'La Source'! And now," Katie said, as the crowd applauded, "Number 11, it's Italy's entrant, Sergio Endrigo!"  
"Oooh, looks like I'm up," Sergio smiled, as he made his way over to the stage.  
Meanwhile, Karel was still looking for Cliff.  
"Cliff? Cliff?!" Karel said, "Cliff?!?! Where the hell are you?!"  
He walked past corridors filled with empty rooms. While he was walking past, he heard a noise come from one of the rooms.  
"Hello?" Karel asked, walking into the room, "Anyone in here? Cliff, is that you? Terry Wogan's got me looking for you, you know."  
"Hey!!" Karel heard a voice from the room, but went inside and saw no one. Then he realised that the voice was coming from the closet. He opened it and Cliff Richard jumped out.  
"Karel! Karel! You'll never guess what happened! I-"  
"There's no time for that now! Tell me what happened later! You're up! We need you to do your Eurovision song!!!"  
"Oh, ok, but it's very important and I'll tell you afterwards," Cliff said and he ran down the corridor and went to the green room.  
He was just in time. He performed his song, 'Congratulations', and the crowd loved it.  
That was the last song of the night, and the voting began.  
"Ah, I can't stand this voting," Cliff said, "I'm so nervous! Anyway, I didn't tell you about how I became trapped in the closet!"  
"Do I really want to know?" Karel laughed.  
"Yes, and it has to do with that mysterious Catalonian guy we saw before."  
"What, did he put you in there?"  
"No Karel, just, look, come with me..."  
And so Cliff and Karel walked off to the toilets.  
"No one will hear us in here," Cliff said, "Ok, so look, Franco has rigged the votes for Eurovision. He wants to win Eurovision to get Spain respect from Europe or some crap. The votes were fixed, the Catalonian guy from before was right."  
"How do you know all this?" Karel asked.  
"Well, I saw Franco."  
"You, saw Franco?" Karel laughed.  
"Yes! He's the one who put me in the closet!"  
"Are you joking?"  
"No!" Cliff yelled, "This isn't a joke!"  
Karel looked at his watch.  
"We better get back," Karel laughed, "Before the results end."  
"You don't believe me, do you?" Cliff asked.  
"Look, you saw Franco in here? Come on man."  
"Well, we'll see soon enough if Spain wins."  
They came back into the green room to see the scores. United Kingdom was at second place.  
"Well, 'congratulations' on second place," Karel smiled.  
Then they saw who was first. Spain.  
"Franco," Cliff said angrily, "Franco fixed it, you see!"  
"Oh my god," Karel said, "You're right!"  
Spain had won by only one point.  
"I like how Spain has won by only one point," Karel smiled, "See, if I was fixing the Eurovision I would have made sure I won it by like, 200 points or something. And the next day everyone would be saying 'new world record broken by Karel Gott! Eurovision won by most points!' It would be awesome."  
"See, now that would make it obvious that it was fixed though," Cliff said, "Winning by one point, however, looks like less of a fix and more like close competition."  
"So, you're saying that it isn't fixed now? Make up your mind!"  
"No Karel!" Cliff yelled, "It was fixed, it's just that they're trying to make it look like it wasn't!"  
"Oh, I see," Karel said.  
"Why are you two talking about a fix?!" Massiel yelled over to them, "The only thing that seems to be 'fixed' here today is your sour attitudes!"  
\---  
Terry Wogan was now in a room with Massiel, and he was about to hand her the Eurovision trophy.  
"Congratulations Massiel," Terry smiled, "You deserve it!"  
"Oooh," Massiel said, "Shiny!"  
Suddenly, Cliff Richard pushed the door open and burst into the room!  
"No Terry!" Cliff Richard yelled, "Stop!"  
"Cliff?!" Terry asked, "What are you doing?"  
"You can't give this trophy to her?" Cliff yelled.  
"And... why not?"  
"Because Spain cheated for it! They don't deserve it!"  
"Wow," Massiel said, "Talk about sour grapes!"  
"No!" Cliff yelled, "It's true! Franco fixed the results!"  
"Quiet, Cliff!" Terry yelled.  
"See, he was like this during the results!" Massiel said, "He kept saying the Eurovision was fixed to his little Czech friend."  
"That's because it is the truth!" Cliff yelled.  
"Cliff Richard! Stop this nonsense!" Terry yelled, "Stop it at once!"  
"But, but-"  
"Look, I'm prepared not to tell anyone about this little incident," Massiel laughed, rolling her eyes, "Honestly Cliff, you've only embarrassed yourself here."  
And with that, Massiel took the trophy from Terry Wogan's hand and skipped out of the room.  
"Cliff! What was the meaning of this!" Terry yelled.  
"I'm sorry, but it's true!" Cliff said.  
\---  
It was later on now, and Karel Gott was standing by himself on a bridge by the river, looking down at the icy water below him.  
"13th place," he whispered to himself, "Not bad, I guess."  
Cliff Richard then walked onto the bridge.  
"Oh, hey. Did you tell them about Franco?" Karel asked.  
"Yeah, they didn't believe me."  
"They didn't believe you?"  
"Yeah, it was like Franco had said, no one will believe my story."  
"Ha, Franco said that?"  
"Yeah."  
"Oh well, at least you got second place, right?" Karel smiled, "And since technically it was a fix, that meants you won!"  
"Yeah, you're right! Wow, I didn't even think about that!"  
"It's like, you're the secret winner of Eurovision, or something."  
"That is nice, my own secret victory. Just a shame Spain decided to fix it on the year I was entering. Couldn't they have waited until next year?"  
"Yeah, I guess you can't win twice in a row though, right? I mean, Sandie Shaw wouldn't be very happy about that."  
"Why not?"  
"I dunno. Anyway, I hear you're entering Lulu for next year."  
"See, now here's the thing," Cliff said, "How come we know our entrant for 1969 but no one knew I was going to be the British entry for this year?"  
"Hmmm..." Karel said, "Maybe the British government already knew that this Eurovision was fixed, so they weren't bothering to find an entrant?"  
"Alright, conspiracy alert," Cliff laughed.  
"It's possible though, isn't it?"  
"I guess so... although maybe it's because Terry Wogan was trying to convince the Beatles to do it. Yeah, I think that's more likely."  
"The Beatles? No way!"  
"Yes way, they wanted to get the Beatles to do Eurovision, can you believe that?"  
"Haha, no way!"  
They looked out across the river for a while.  
"Hmmm, I wonder how Eurovision will be in the future," Karel said.  
"Well, Eurovision is one thing that will keep going, regardless of what happens," Cliff smiled.  
"I hope Eurovision goes on forever," Karel replied.  
"I hope so too," Cliff said, looking up at the clouds floating along the sky.  
\---  
Cliff Richard tried to launch a complaint against Spain about this, but his story was not believed until many years later, and by that time it was far too late.  
Time went by, Harold Wilson left his place as prime minister, and, under Edward Heath, Britain started to slowly use technology, and brought themselves out of the artificial Victorian age that they had plunged themselves into. Even more time went by, and Yugoslavia split. Czechoslovakia vowed never to have a civil war like Yugoslavia did, and expressed their desire to split up peacefully.  
And even as Czechoslovakia split up into the Czech Republic and Slovakia, the two countries remained close allies and kept each others secrets. The 'advanced' technology that the Czechs and Slovaks owned slowly became obsolete, but the experiments that their governments had done did not get out. The blueprints that were used to build Karel sat on a table in one of the army bases and collected dust.  
In late 2007 however, these blueprints were found by the British army, who were infiltrating the Czech army base to see if there was anything that could be used by the British government. This almost sparked a war between the Czech Republic and the United Kingdom, although Slovakia came in at the last minute to diffuse the situation. The blueprints were given to Ireland for safekeeping, and Ireland made a string of sub-par robots, but they could never quite achieve what the Czech Republic had done. Then the blueprints were given back to Britain, where Terry Wogan built the ultimate Eurovision winning robot. Lena Meyer-Landrut.  
\---  
And so Lena sat on a bench in a park in Berlin, looking into the sky. There were small firework packets littered all over the floor, discarded after yesterdays New Year celebrations. Lena smiled. It was now 2011, and it was getting nearer and nearer to the next Eurovision Song Contest.  
"Hello Lena," a voice said from next to her.  
She looked across and saw Karel Gott sitting on the bench next to her.  
"Uh... hey... who are you?" Lena asked.  
"I've got something to tell you," Karel said, "The Eurovision is not so different than now. You see, I was in the Eurovision Song Contest too... many years ago... in 1968."  
"Alright, that's nonsense, how could you have been in the Eurovision in 1968? You look like... 20 or something, and it's impossible that-"  
"That's what I'm trying to tell you Lena! I'm a robot... just like you!"  
Lena was shocked.  
"How... how do you know that I'm-"  
"Udo told me, and Gottschalk told him. You see Lena, you were not the first robot to be built to win the Eurovision Song Contest..."  
And so Karel told Lena the story of Eurovision 1968.  
"Wait... so you were the first robot built to win Eurovision... but you didn't win Eurovision?!"  
"Well... uh.. technology is much better now. And the result was fixed, remember?"  
"Oh yeah, so whatever happened to that Franco guy, anyway?"  
"Well, he was never brought to justice, but he was overthrown by the Spanish people, who were sick of his dictatorship and wanted a democracy."  
"In that case," Lena said, "People are saying that Terry Wogan wants to become dictator of Britain now. Do you think he will be overthrown if he does?"  
"Well, it depends Lena. It all depends."  
"Does Cliff Richard know that you're a robot?"  
"Well... no, I never told him. Only you and Udo know. And the governments of the Czech Republic and Slovakia."  
"So... why have you told me?"  
"Well," Karel said, "I liked knowing that I wasn't alone. And I want you to know that you aren't alone."  
"I was never alone, silly," Lena said, "I have my friends to guide me. Whether they are robots or not doesn't matter."  
"And have you told your friends you are a robot?"  
"Well... Stefan's always known... and... everyone else I told inside the PVR... but I don't think they took me seriously. I mean, we had other things to worry about back then."  
"Ah yes," Karel said, "The Americans, you did a great job back there, Lena."  
"Heh, everyone always says that," Lena smiled, "But I guess Gjoko did most of it. Well, actually, he didn't do much either, his Pokemon... however."  
"Yes well, it's polite to congratulate you anyway."  
"Well, thank you," Lena smiled.  
"And good luck in the next Eurovision," Karel said.  
"Oh thank you, I hope it will be as good as last year!" Lena smiled, thinking about what the next Eurovision could possibly bring.  
The End.


End file.
